


Feverish Inspirations

by MaresThird



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaresThird/pseuds/MaresThird
Summary: A snippet of the two during quarantine and how Tobin designed the Popsicle line.Please suspend any real life time lines seeing how this is completely made up. Thanks.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 18
Kudos: 161





	1. Chapter 1

Tobin’s whole body jerks as she opens her eyes, squinting at the brightness surrounding her. She blinks rapidly, eyes watering as they adjust to the sunny day and she takes in her surroundings. Her head is to the side and she feels grass beneath her and realizes she’s on a soccer pitch. She’s confused, she isn’t supposed to be here now. She should be home, there’s a pandemic, she shouldn’t be outside right now. 

“You good, rook?” a female voice asks with concern. 

Tobin moves her head to follow the sound and is now looking up at Mia Hamm.  


“Yeah?” she replies confusedly, still blinking and slowly moving her legs and making fists with her hands. She becomes aware of how her body aches and her head is pounding. She’s also really hot, like burning up. “I feel like I got hit by a truck,” Her reply is met with laughter. 

“You did,” another voice says good naturedly and Tobin sees Julie Foudy extending a hand to her. Tobin takes it and stands up, still hot and slightly woozy but otherwise okay. 

“Hey, you good?” another player asks, joining the small circle they’re standing in. It’s Kristine Lilly. 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, thinking she must be dreaming. 

“Sorry about that,” Kristine says, giving her a sheepish shrug. “I wasn’t looking and didn’t see you there until it was too late.” 

“It’s cool,” Tobin shrugs, having no idea what she’s apologizing for. She runs her hand over her pulled back hair. 

“Alright, break it up,” another female yells from a distance, “let me take a look,” she orders and the woman step back. The woman, who Tobin figures her for a trainer, runs her through a pretty weak concussion test and for some reason she sticks a thermometer in Tobin’s mouth, slaps a wet towel around her neck and pronounces her fit to play.  


Tobin squints and looks over to discover she certainly is on a pitch, one full of fans in a pretty large stadium. People are cheering as Tobin drinks from the water bottle Kristine handed her and she looks around. She thinks she’s in Carson, it looks familiar. She really shouldn’t be playing soccer right, she thinks, her and Christen have just come home from the She Believes Cup and she really has to focus on some stuff for Re-Inc. right now. Chris is gonna be pissed, she frowns, then slowly realizes this is probably a dream. 

“Heath, you good?” a new voice asks from a few feet away on the sideline and Tobin turns to see a woman looking at her shrewdly. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replies, nodding at her, trying to place who it is. 

“Alright, you’re still starting tonight,” she nods back, “but if you feel off, you let us know.” 

Tobin lifts her hand and gives her a single finger pistol, “Will do,” and takes a drink of water. 

“Finish your warm up then,” the woman reminds her and Tobin realizes the woman is April Heinrich. 

_April Heinrich, what is she doing here?_ Tobin wonders and shakes her head following the trio in front of her, her eyes warily taking in the rest of the team warming up. _Yeah,_ she figures, _I’m dreaming._ She squirts water on her face and takes a deep breath and tosses the bottle near the sideline. Comforted in knowing the drills, she jumps right in. She’s concentrating on the drills but while standing in line she glances up and sees Christen in another a group across from her looking over with concern and Tobin smiles fondly at her, slightly surprised at the bashful and shy smile Chris returns before looking away quickly. 

_Why does Chris look so shy? What the the hell is going on?_ Tobin wonders. 

XXXX

Christen feels warm under the covers and rolls to her side, away from the heat radiating beside her in the form of a one Tobin Powell Heath. Tobin is usually a human furnace, so this isn’t anything new. She shifts her legs and settles back to sleep. She feels as if she’s only slept a few minutes when she’s awakened by the bed shaking violently. Her eyes fly open in the darkness and she instinctively reaches for the lamp on her nightstand, clicking it on. She turns wildly to see Tobin, uncharacteristically lying on her back, breathing deeply. 

Christen’s eyes widen when she looks closer and sees that Tobin has flung the comforter off of herself and lying spread eagle. On closer inspection, Christen sees how flushed Tobin’s cheeks are and how her face, neck and hair is slick with sweat. She realizes Tobin’s fever has spiked. She flips the light comforter off herself and slides out of bed, speed walking to the bathroom and finding the thermometer. She rinses it off and shakes it dry as she returns to the bedroom, intent on waking her. 

“Tobin,” she says quietly as she gently shakes her shoulder, “babe, wake up,” 

Tobin’s eyes flutter open and she sniffles and squints at her, clearly not fully awake. “Mia?” she mumbles questioningly, slightly tilting her head. 

“Are you okay?” Christen asks, feeling her concern rising. 

“…feel…hit…truck…” is what she makes out from Tobin’s mumbling. 

Christen shakes her head, “I need to take your temperature,” she instructs, “open your mouth.” After a couple of failed attempts, due to Tobin’s inability to keep the device under her tongue, Christen decides to get the digital one they were given in a supply pack from the National Team. She finds it quickly enough, frustrated she has to open the packaging and then put in the batteries before she can use it. Christen races back to the bathroom and returns with a couple of cool washcloths and places one on her forehead and the other around her neck. 

“Her fever is 102.2,” Christen reports anxiously with her phone in one hand, digital thermometer the other. 

“If she wakes again, try to get her in the bath or the shower. If her fever goes over 103, bring her to the ER,” a voice advises her, “make sure you tell them you’re both COVID-19 positive and make sure to wear a mask, the both of you.”

“Okay,” Christen nods, “I’ll take her temperature every hour.” 

“That’s right,” the female on the other of the call encourages, “and keep doing the cool compresses, not cold, just a little cool, almost lukewarm.” 

“Okay,” Christen whispers. 

“I know you’re scared,” the woman soothes, “but you’re doing everything correctly and that’s all you can do for her right now. If you can wake her again in a little bit, give her more Tylenol and try to keep her hydrated.” 

“Okay,” Christen nods, letting out a sigh, “thank you,” 

“Take care and keep me posted, alright?” 

“I will Dr. Brown,” Christen sniffs, “thank you again.” 

They end the call and Christen lets the phone drop from her hand and onto the mattress. She stands next to the bed, moving her arms to hug herself as she looks on at Tobin. They had been so careful, wearing masks, washing their hands and not going anywhere. They had both begun to show symptoms a couple of days after their return to Portland after the She Believes Cup. Both of them felt drained, which was normal after the tournament, but the lethargy felt deeper than usual. Then Tobin developed a low fever and she followed the next day. 

Obviously, tonight Tobin’s fever had spiked after they went to bed, drenching her shirt with sweat, making her skin hot to the touch and her face flushed. Earlier, when Christen shook her awake and Tobin still wasn’t making any sense, she got scared and panicked and called the team doctor, explaining what was happening. Convincing an out of it Tobin to take Tylenol wasn’t easy but she was successful after she hid the capsules in applesauce and Tobin got it down. She was slightly amused when Tobin mumbled she was fine and gave her a weak finger gun. Helping Tobin out of her damp shirt and into a fresh dry one wasn’t a simple task as well. Now wide awake for the past two and a half hours, Christen has been monitoring Tobin’s temperature each hour and replacing the cool washcloths on her forehead and neck and watching her closely. 

Once a smattering of players were diagnosed with COVID-19, the league and National Team were keeping it quiet, not wanting the media to pressure affected players to make a statement. It would be up to each player if they wanted to publicly state if they were sick. Christen heard Carli and her husband were sick with flu like symptoms and she prayed she or Tobin wouldn’t develop that. Little Mal wasn’t feeling well yet her test was inconclusive. She was getting tested again in a couple of days. Emily and Lindsey’s tests were inconclusive and they felt fine and they were waiting to get retested. Ali had tested positive and was feeling just fine. She would get retested but until then, her and Ashlyn were isolating from each other in their house. Multiple players on both Japan and England’s teams were testing inconclusive or positive. 

The National Team had made sure the players would have access to the nearest club’s medical team if necessary after the She Believes Cup. There was no denying the USSF was doing everything possible to give them medical access and providing them with digital thermometers, gloves, masks, disinfecting wipes. The next day, Tobin and Christen made appointments to get tested at the Thorns facility and were tested later that same afternoon. Two days later, both of their tests came back positive for COVID-19. In the two days that followed, both still felt lethargic and achy. Christen’s fever remained low yet persisted most of the day, usually lowering after a few doses of Tylenol. Tobin’s fluctuated from a low grade to around a hundred and one but tonight is the first time it has spiked so high. 

The idea of needing to take Tobin to the hospital when she wouldn't be able to stay with her makes her stomach turn. She's been hearing the stories of people going on ventilators and being all alone. She's heard the stories of people dying. She wrings her hands as she looks at Tobin, praying her fever will lower. 

Christen is very, very worried. 

XXXX

Tobin casually shuffles through the locker room, gratefully eying the nameplates above the cubicles because she has no clue where her locker is or what jersey number she would be wearing. She smirks to herself when she sees her jersey hanging in the cubicle emblazoned with Heath and the number 23, immediately thinking of Christen. She strips off her warm up top quickly and puts on her jersey, feeling the silky material slide down on her and she realizes the oversized jersey is one from the men’s team. She remembers the women didn’t get their own styles of jerseys until a couple of years later. She sits down and looks out to see the others laughing and joking around and takes it all in. Her eyes follow Kate Markgraf animatedly talking to Cindy Parlow and Leslie Osbourne. In the corner a young Heather Mitts is huddled with Amy LePeilbet and Lori Chalupny. Then there’s Mia, staring down at her boots, nodding to herself as she slowly rocks back and forth in her seat and it reminds Tobin of how Alex Morgan prepares for her matches. Julie Foudy is panning the room with a video camera, annoying Lindsay Tarpley, Angela Hucles and Brandi Chastain. Tobin looks down at her boots, seeing brand new Nike Mercurial Vapors that she realizes are the ones her Dad took her buy before she left home to attend UNC. _Holy shit!_ she thinks, _That was like, fourteen years ago._

Shaking it off and figuring this is just a really wild dream, Tobin is pulling up the outer stockings that are obviously a men’s size and as she folds them over and scrunches them down so they’re at the height she likes when she hears the door bang open. “Listen up!” Coach Heinrich yells as she enters the locker room, making Tobin lift her head quickly, “I know it’s your final game, Mia, Julie and Joy, but we’ve got to play them tough. You all haven’t had much of a chance for training, so we’ll keep it basic.” 

_Mia, Julie and Joy’s last game?_ Tobin considers, _That happened in like, 2004 or so didn’t it? So, I’m in 2004?_ she wonders to herself. Tobin hears her name again and zones in to listen carefully as April outlines the formation and style of play they want to use to attack the Mexico team. _Holy shit! I’m really playing!_ she thinks, shaking her head in disbelief. _This is so crazy._

A wave of anxiety overcomes her, suddenly nervous to be in this match. It’s an important one, a historical one. Three of the legends of soccer are retiring and she’s going to be on the pitch with them. She takes a moment to ground herself, remembering she’s played hundreds, maybe even thousands of soccer matches and once she’s on the pitch, this one will be no different. _Just do your job and it will all work out, besides, it’s just a dream,_ she reminds herself. 

She feels fingers lightly touch her forearm as she walks towards the locker room exit and turns to see Christen giving her another shy smile.

“Good luck out there,” she says quietly, “you’re gonna do great,” 

“Thanks,” Tobin grins at her, “I-” she stops herself, knowing she was going to say her typical I love you to her before they exited the locker room like she’s always done for years. Then she realizes if this isn’t some strange dream and it’s really is 2004, her and Christen barely know each other. They had met two years ago at some camps and tournaments but don’t really know each other well. They kind of talk and kind of flirt, but they definitely aren’t dating yet. She doesn’t want to mess with karma. “I hope I don’t embarrass myself,” she amends.

“You never embarrass yourself on the pitch,” Christen states assuredly with a small smile, “just don’t get in your head.” 

Tobin nods, “Just let go and let it flow,” she repeats their coach’s favorite saying, gives her a slightly nervous grin. 

Christen nods as they push the doors open, “Let it flow,” she smiles at her, stepping back so Tobin can move up with the starters. 

As Tobin walks, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, _Just go out and have fun. This is just a dream,_ she tells herself, _an amazing, strange awesome dream._

XXXX

Christen is grateful Tobin has settled down now, not jerking or flinching anymore and mumbling incoherently, yet she’s craning her neck, as if she’s looking for something. Her eyebrows are knitted and she’s frowning slightly, pulling at the washcloth and brushing it from her forehead. Christen stands up, plucking up the washcloth and walking to bathroom to rinse it again with cool water. 

She gets in bed when she returns, suddenly feeling very tired, the rush of adrenalin and fear exhausting her. She slowly slides in next to Tobin, leaning over and using the digital thermometer to take her temperature. When the device beeps, Tobin doesn’t even flinch at the noise and Christen looks in the dim light of their bedroom to see display a reading of 101.9. She sighs, hoping it will continue to drop. She glances at the digital clock on the bedside table and sees it is just past two in the morning. She lets out a heavy sigh, she’s tired. The two had stayed up until eleven, late for them, watching an interesting documentary on the Peace Corps and their assistance to native people on small Pacific islands. 

She’s been trying to find shows to watch that will keep Tobin’s interest. Sports are out, since she’ll usually drift off on replay games, even basketball. It’s worse when Tobin zones out, worrying about being sick. Tobin hasn’t said anything to her but Christen knows it brings back memories of that terrible year Tobin had just out of college, breaking her ankle and having surgery and then being sick for nearly eight months with a mysterious illness that teams of doctors weren’t able to diagnose. She knows Tobin usually can push away those thoughts and she can’t blame her when she broods about it. She can’t imagine what her she had gone through, she doesn’t talk about it much. 

Both have them have felt slightly out of whack since the virus has completely turned their plans upside down. They intended to work on the next product drop for Re-Inc. while they were home. Christen knows Tobin has been tossing around ideas, she was working on them during the tournament, but hasn’t been satisfied with anything yet and since they’ve been home, Tobin hasn’t felt well enough to go to her studio space to create. The four of them, herself, Tobin, Megan and Kling have discussed how intentional they want their products to be and the message and theme of each product drop. 

Since Tobin had completed Volemics back in February, her second large painting to be auctioned off, the drop in July will be inspired by it. They’ve discussed if a rainbow product line would be appropriate, what the message they want to endorse with it and how they would achieve it. Shockingly, it was Megan who suggested that they should be subdued and perhaps not introduce a line that is outright themed as gay, yet remain ambiguous, letting others perceive what they want. It would flow with the non-binary clothing and sizing they wanted to continue to produce. It was a sound thought process, it would allow them freedom to be fluid with the message and theme and all agreed to it. 

In their down time during the She Believes Cup, Tobin has been struggling with how she wants to design the tops and the new skateboard and towel. She wants to be sure the design looks good on each item. This down time was when she wanted to have the design set and approved by the others and ready to go before they started the NWSL season.  
With the nagging headaches and fevers, neither of them have wanted to read or play cards or any other games, even chess. Thinking hurts both of their heads. The annoying headaches they both have dulled any enthusiasm to partake in much of anything other than distractedly watching TV. She knows Tobin is feeling really crappy when she doesn’t have the energy to go to her old apartment turned art studio to work on any projects. 

Christen herself hasn’t felt the will to tackle any of the Re-Inc business she normally does. Kling and Pinoe have gladly picked up the slack, assuring her they’ll take care of it. They have a new drop approaching that’s been planned for months and Christen usually likes to oversee it. She’s confident the others can handle it, there actually isn’t much to do except promote and do some interviews. 

Beside her with eyes still clamped shut, Tobin lets out a huff, frowning and turns her head as if she’s looking for something. She huffs again with frustration. “Chris?” she slurs questioningly. 

Christen gently cups Tobin’s jaw, “It’s alright, baby,” she soothes, “I’m right here,” she says, “you’re going to be okay.” 

Tobin stills and calms from her touch, “Let it go,” she mumbles, letting out a sigh. She’s quiet for a few minutes, then Christen notices how serious her expression changes. She realizes it almost looks like Tobin is wearing her game face. 

XXXX

Playing is a dream, being in this midfield, feeding balls to Mia Hamm, her old coach Cindy Parlow, and a young Abby Wambach is unreal. Tobin is weaving her way through the midfield, passing the ball to Leslie and watching as she spins and lofts the ball to Abby who heads it into the net. Witnessing Mia on her corner kicks impresses her. Seeing her assists and her vision of the field leaves her in awe. Watching how Julie Foudy shuts down Mexico and threads the ball to the midfield fills her with pride. Julie on the pitch is so much different than Julie behind the microphone. She’s smart and fearless and a complete badass. Playing with Aly Wagner and Kristine Lilly in the midfield just knocks her off her feet. Seeing Abby so youthful and full of fire and passion and selflessly throwing herself at the ball makes her smile. It’s so similar yet different than Abby at the end of her career.  
The minutes fly by and in the second half, it’s surreal to be in the pitch being hugged by Mia as she leaves the pitch for the final time. Watching an incredibly young Heather O’Reilly take her place makes her shake her head. Julie Foudy leaving minutes later, laughing and smiling as she jogs off the pitch is so opposite of Mia’s more somber and emotional exit. 

The champagne shower Tobin receives in the locker for her first cap is unexpected as is shotgunning beers with these legends of soccer before they even get out of their uniforms. Her head is spinning and she’s laughing as she gets handed a signed ball from the team commemorating her achievement. Christen smiles shyly at her from across the locker room, lifting her beer can and nods. Tobin lifts her beer can to toast her back and they both take a sip and smile softly at each other. She wants to talk to her, hear her thoughts about tonight but each time she gets close, someone pulls her away to talk to lead her back to the cooler to shotgun a beer. Multiple times she tries to find Christen in the locker room, but each time she’s denied speaking to her. _Must be a reason in this dream,_ Tobin thinks. 

She looks around for Christen once more when she finishes dressing but sees her walking out the locker room with Heather Mitts. HAO and Abby grab her as she slings her backpack on her shoulder after she’s dressed an hour later. With a nice buzz from the beers, Tobin makes her way with them to the locker room doors. 

“We’re going out,” HAO announces, giving Tobin a crooked grin and blowing beer breath in her face. She slings an arm around Tobin’s shoulder and leads her toward the exit.

“Hey, you three,” a voice calls, making them stop and turn around to face Mia who’s standing there with Julie and Joy and Carla Overbeck. 

“You guys are it,” Mia announces with authority, “you’re the next wave,” she says seriously, nodding her head. 

“Don’t forget what we’ve shown you,” Joy says softly, “how you have to give your best every time you’re on the pitch.” 

The three nod their heads as they listen the veterans. 

“Don’t take any of this for granted,” Julie states, “each call up, it’s a gift, treat it as one.” 

“You three will get your World Cups,” Mia states with a convincing surety, the corner of her lips curling into a crooked smile, “and you’ll get your Olympic Golds,” she nods, “you have it in you.” 

"And remember to remain true to yourself," Julie inserts, giving the three a stern look, "know what your message to the world will be," she says cryptically.

“And if you keep winning,” Joy nods at them, “maybe one day you’ll get a women’s cut uniform,” she says with a snort. 

“And equal per diems,” Julie shakes her head. 

“And equal pay,” Mia adds. 

Julie elbows her, “Let’s not get crazy,” she smirks. 

Joy looks at them carefully, “You might not think this,” she says slowly, “but you three will help grow the game. So, think about what’s important, not just for you, but for the future players and kids that look up to as role models.”

“Maybe one day I’ll be interviewing you as legends of the game,” Julie laughs, “we’ll eat donuts and talk footy,” 

“Maybe I’ll own a team one day,” Mia chuckles, “and you’ll play for me,” 

“Maybe I’ll coach you,” Joy laughs. 

“Get out of here,” Julie says warmly, “we’ll keep our eyes on you, you three are going to be exciting to watch.” 

“Uh,” Tobin utters, internally freaking out, “it’s been a total honor,” she says shakily, growing emotional and nearly tearing up, “you have no idea how much,” she sniffs as the three nod and smile at her. 

“Get the rook drunk,” Joy advises Abby, “and remember work hard-” 

“Play hard,” Abby smiles back at her, finishing the old saying, “you got it.” 

Voices call out for Mia and Julie and the moment is gone. They turn around leaving the three younger players standing there in stunned silence. 

“Well, you heard them,” HAO says, clearing her throat, “let’s go get drunk.” 

XXXX

Just when Christen settles down to sleep, Tobin starts moving next to her. She’s flipped off the thin sheet, her legs sliding around, her hips shifting. She wonders what Tobin was dreaming about, her legs continually moving, as if she was running. It lasted for the first couple of hours, then she was mumbling incoherently and grinning. It kept her awake enough that Christen did video some of it, just so she could show her later. If she wasn’t so worried for her, she would find it amusing. Tobin usually has vivid dreams, often waking her during the night with talking or moving around. Christen is relieved that Tobin hasn’t attempted leaving the bed like she has a few times in the past. Tobin sleepwalking typically only happens when Tobin is stressed and overtired and it’s unsettling when Christen has witnessed it. 

Christen shifts to her side, facing Tobin who is now flat on her back. She reflects about the last few days. After six days of both of them feeling pretty awful, Christen was only waiting for something to ignite a quarrel between her and Tobin. Tobin has grown increasingly quieter, not crabby or acting nasty towards her, just being quiet. It’s unnerving and Christen is worried Tobin has been keeping her anxieties within, letting them build up until she just explodes. Her doing that hasn’t happened in a few years. 

When they first got together, Christen was rather shocked to learn of how Tobin kept so much inside and not having a positive outlet for her emotions. She had always put out this image of being happy go lucky, yet there was a very serious side to her, an intellectual side that looked at things very differently, and a vulnerable side not many people are privileged to see. 

In the years they’ve been together both of them have grown, Christen learning to let go more, enjoy herself and not worry about the things she can’t control. Tobin learning to express herself when she’s uncertain or unhappy about something. They’ve both matured and taken ownership of their issues and actively worked on them separately and together. They’ve had their rough spots, especially after committing themselves to being in this relationship. Long distance is tough. It was really tough back then. 

They’ve come through it and are stronger than ever, a committed pair ready to face anything together. They meditate together in the morning after Tobin reads her Bible and Christen does her yoga. Rarely are they out of sync. But every once in a while, something might trigger one of them. For Christen, it was the illness and death of her Mom. Tobin was her rock, her steady guiding force, putting Christen first and meeting her needs before she aware of what she needed. Christen is forever grateful to Tobin for how she helped her navigate through the darkest time of her life. 

She feels Tobin is in a dark place now, this quarantine, the fear she holds of being sick, the worry of the country not being led well. She strokes her fingers lightly over Tobin’s sweaty forearm, hoping that the next temperature reading is lower. She thinks maybe Tobin has taken a more positive turn in her mind this afternoon, especially after their Facetime call with her Mom. 

This afternoon, they were talking to Cindy when she Facetimed to check in with them and Tobin broke down. She’s usually calm and optimistic and seeing her struggling with rising panic and being so frightened, crying on the phone to her Mom was awful. All of her fears came pouring out, being sick, being so sick like she was in 2010, Christen being sick, family and friends getting sick. The political climate, trying to change how the world is, if they’re doing enough, is she doing enough. Christen tried her best to comfort her, holding her and soothing her as best as she could. She was crying right along with her. Poor Cindy didn’t know what to do, she felt so helpless, she was tearing up as well. 

Christen is worried about Tobin’s and her own health. She’s powered through headaches to read about COVID-19 and how serious some of the lasting effects survivors are showing. Particularly the scarring in the lungs. Pneumonia from lying around so much, other organs being affected. That would kill their careers. It’s terrifying and to learn the doctors don’t know everything about this virus yet is even more terrifying. 

Gratefully, neither of them are having any respiratory difficulties, besides Tobin’s usual spring allergies, although they’ve been cautioned they could develop. When Tobin began sniffling and sneezing two days ago, Christen just knew she was panicking about it and not realizing it was allergy season in Portland. She calmed her, gently reminding her this was normal allergies, nothing unusual, but they would monitor it. 

After they got off the call with Cindy, Tobin had looked at her with watery, tired eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice nasal and uneven, filled with remorse and emotion, “I didn’t mean to lose it like that,” 

Christen gave her a wistful smile, “I think we all needed it,” she said, “you, me, your Mom,” she nodded, “we all needed that release. We needed to hear the fears and acknowledge them, it was good, it was healthy.” 

Tobin took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes, “You think?” she asked skeptically as she placed her glasses back on her face. 

“I do, love,” Christen replied, “I feel better after that, don’t you? A little lighter?” 

Tobin sniffled and considered for a moment, “Yeah, kinda,” she answered, a slow soft smile appearing on her face. 

“Good,” Christen nodded, “now,” she glanced at the clock o the microwave in the kitchen, “I think we’re both due for some Tylenol, so let’s do that and then figure out something to eat.” 

“Sounds good,” Tobin smiled gently, “then maybe a nap, I’m exhausted.” 

Christen nodded, “I like that idea,” 

Christen sighs and realizes she isn’t going to get much rest tonight. Between Tobin worrying her and her own mind wandering, Christen knows she’s in for a long night. 

XXXX

Tobin gets back to the hotel that night happily singing in the hallway with HAO, Abby, Carli Lloyd and Heather Mitts. Once in her room with HAO, she tumbles onto her bed, sprawling across the mattress, content to stay there until morning. She kicks off her gym shoes, smiling into the comforter. She feels good. They had a ton of fun at the bar where the bartenders turned their heads and served them all. She even got see Christen dancing for a bit but was too nervous to join her on the dance floor. 

She is certainly tipsy, not drunk because she didn’t want to get wasted and be completely out of control. She still wasn’t positive this was dream, maybe she died from the virus and she’s getting the chance to relive her life again. Maybe this is her heaven, so she wavered about doing anything with Christen. If this truly is a dream, she would have certainly flirted more with the dark haired beauty. But the lingering doubt remained of what if she wasn’t supposed to mess with their meeting? She doesn’t want to risk messing with karma if she shouldn’t try to flirt with Christen now. She strongly feels that everything had to happen in both of their lives for them to be who they were when they finally got together. They had to live and love and lose and grow up and be open to learn and mature before they were ready to commit to each other. That’s why they love each other so much and why their relationship works. She doesn’t want to screw everything up by being in this dream when it was fairly obvious Christen was only a secondary participant in it.  
Tobin feels like she’s burning up and HAO is already snoring loudly on the bed next to her, the lights still on in the room. She rolls over on her back, clumsily picking at her shirt, _Got to get this off,_ she thinks, _I’m so hot._

She keeps trying to pull her shirt off but it won’t come off and she gives up, closing her eyes and falling asleep with Christen on her mind. _I love her so much,_ she happily sighs, _Thank you, God, if this is my Heaven, as long as she’s here with me, everything is beautiful._ She feels a coolness across her body and she easily drifts off into a peaceful slumber. 

XXXX 

Christen squints in the darkness when she feels Tobin mumbling and moving next to her. Once again, she flicks on the bedside lamp, clicking over to the lowest setting. Tobin is still sweaty and her face is still flushed and she’s frowning as she picks at her damp shirt. Just as Christen reaches over to pull up her shirt, Tobin lets out a deep sigh. 

“Love her,” Tobin mumbles, the trace of a smile on her face, “Thank you God,” she sighs, mumbling a long string of gibberish Christen can’t understand. 

Christen smiles down at her as she rests on her side up on one elbow. She lets her fingers brush back the damp hair from Tobin’s face, grateful seeing her at peace for the first time tonight. No longer is the crease on her forehead nor the frown on her face. 

Christen turns and grabs the digital thermometer, using it one more time. Breathing a sigh of relief that Tobin’s temperature is now ninety-nine point eight, she sets the device on the nightstand and flops back on the mattress with exhaustion. She lets her hand find Tobin’s forearm and strokes the clammy skin. 

“Love you,” she says tiredly as she closes her eyes. 

XXXX


	2. Chapter 2

Christen wakes to her bladder letting her know it needs to be emptied. The opens her eyes to a dimly lit room from the overcast sky and glances over to the clock next to her and sees it’s six thirty. She lazily stretches under the sheet before slowly rising from the bed. After using the toilet and washing her hands, she stands on the other side of the bed, looking down at Tobin. She’s sleeping now, her mouth slightly open with her head turned to the side facing her. She’s spread out, limbs pointing in all directions, flat on her back, breathing through her mouth. She decides to wake Tobin and make her drink something and give her some more Tylenol and get her to change her shirt at least. 

Christen places her hand on Tobin’s forehead, grateful that she doesn’t feel as hot. “Babe,” she shakes Tobin’s arm gently, “honey, wake up,” she encourages, giving her arm another shake. She watches as Tobin’s eyes move under her eyelids, back and forth rapidly and then she’s blinking and looking at her with a dopey grin. 

“You’re here,” she says dreamily, giving her a wide smile and looking up at with glassy eyes. 

“I’m here,” Christen confirms with a smile, “how about we change your shirt and take some medicine?” 

“I’ll do anything for you,” Tobin confesses with that goofy smile, her eyes still on her. 

Christen chuckles, “That’s good to know, babe,” 

Tobin’s mouth drops open, “You called me babe,” she says with wonder. She’s clearly not completely awake yet. Christen is used to it, Tobin is the epitome of being a slow riser in the morning. 

Christen reaches for the hem of Tobin’s shirt, pulling it up, “Let’s put a new shirt on,” 

Tobin begins to gather her senses as she sits up and Christen is wiping down her back with a wet washcloth. “I was dreaming,” she says slowly as she looks around their bedroom,   
“it was all a dream,” she whispers with sigh. 

“I knew you were,” she remarks, using a towel to dry Tobin’s skin. 

“You were there,” Tobin yawns, lifting her arm to get her shirt on, “we weren’t together yet,” 

“Were you playing footy with Mia Hamm?” Christen questions as she walks over to the hallway and tosses the towel and shirt in the laundry basket. 

“I was,” Tobin nods, yawning again. 

“I’ll be right back,” Christen states, “don’t fall asleep, you need to take some medicine.” 

“Okay,” Tobin nods at her, “I won’t.” 

From the kitchen, Christen can hear the toilet flush and when she returns with the bottle of Tylenol and Gatorades for both of them, she finds Tobin is sitting up in bed with her back against the headboard. She’s holding the digital thermometer to her forehead. 

“Thanks,” she says when Christen hands her the bottle. 

“What is it?” Christen inquires as she slides onto the bed. 

“It’s 99.1,” Tobin replies as she opens her drink. She takes the pills, swallowing them down with ease. 

“You feeling better?” Christen asks, sipping on her drink. 

“Yeah,” she replies, taking another drink, “I don’t feel as hot,” she continues, “and my head isn’t pounding.”

“Your temperature went up over a hundred and two,” Christen informs her. 

“Wow,” Tobin’s eyes widen, then she blinks and squints, turning to find her glasses and puts them on. “You look really tired,” she observes, “have you been up the whole time?” 

Christen nods, “You scared me,” she confesses, “you were really out of it and mumbling and moving all over, and you looked really awful.” 

Tobin grimaces, “I’m sorry, babe,” she says genuinely.

Christen reaches across the bed to take her hand and giving it a squeeze, “Hey,” she says, giving her a soft smile, “we said in sickness and in health, right?” 

Tobin smiles widely, “We did,” she says, giving Christen’s hand a return squeeze. 

Legally, they are not married. They exchange vows to each other last fall while camping together, just the two of them surrounded by nature’s beauty on a perfect autumn day. The ring Tobin choose for Christen looked more like an engagement ring, nothing incredibly flashy but perfectly suited to Christen’s style. Christen had given Tobin a new Tiffany ring, very similar to the one she already owned, yet personalized with a few details just for her. They had their lawyers prepare powers of attorney for finances and health naming another as their representative. They have separate and joint bank accounts, investments and work together with Re-Inc. outside of soccer. 

Both felt that someday after their playing days they would have a ceremony with family and friends but were content knowing they it for each other. Over the years, the two worked hard to gather both families for events so they can spend time together outside of cheering them on in stadiums around the world. Both families are close and comfortable spending time together. They also think both of their immediate families believe they did get married in secret, but nobody has brought it up, so they don’t talk about it. They feel married, even if they don’t have an official certificate and they aren’t in any type of rush to make it public knowledge. 

“Do you think you can sleep?” Christen asks as she studies Tobin’s features. Her partner is developing some darkness around her eyes from a lack of restful sleep and she looks absolutely wiped out with exhaustion. 

Tobin nods, “Yeah,” she says, taking another slow sip of her Gatorade, “that was some dream,” she says distractedly, capping her drink and turning to place it on the nightstand next to the bed. Christen would normally ask her about her dream, but she shuts the light off that rests on her bedside nightstand and scoots down in unison with Tobin. Christen is just as exhausted as Tobin and wants to sleep. 

They both sigh as they get comfortable, lying side by side. “Can we sleep in?” Tobin tiredly asks with her scratchy voice. They’d been trying to maintain some sort of schedule of breakfast, lunch and dinner so as not to get completely out of whack.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Christen says with relief, “and if we’re hungry, let’s order in brunch food,” 

Tobin hums in agreement, “Love you, babe,” she mumbles quietly. 

“Sleep fast, my love,” Christen replies just as softly. Reassured that Tobin is feeling better and the crisis is over, she easily falls to sleep.

XXXX

“It might make you drowsy, but you won’t feel nauseous anymore,” Dr. Brown states over the phone. Her and Tobin are doing a video chat to talk about her headaches and fever and how she’s feeling. She’s prescribed Reglan, an anti-nausea medication. 

“Any other side effects we should be aware of?” Christen asks from beside Tobin on the couch. She’s had her check in with Dr. Brown already. It’s been two days since Tobin had her scary spike in her temperature and it’s continued at least once each day since. The headaches she’s getting is making her feel sick to her stomach and sensitive to light as well. 

“Drowsiness is the most common, although there’s always a chance for diarrhea, restlessness, an increase in urination. When it gets delivered, there will be an information sheet with it. Just call me if anything on the list happens and we’ll go from there. It’s very rare, but they have to list everything.” The doctor assures them. 

“Okay, sounds good,” Tobin nods to her on the screen, “thanks, Doc,” 

“You’re welcome,” she smiles at them, “you both take care and check in with me in a couple of days, alright? Call sooner if you need to.” 

“Will do,” Tobin nods and they end the call. She yawns as she sets her phone on the arm of the couch and looks at Christen tiredly. “How’s your headache?” she asks her. 

Christen shrugs, “Not too bad, just like, nagging,” 

Tobin frowns, “Can I do anything to help?” she offers, “Massage?” 

“That would be nice,” Christen agrees, feeling it might help and knowing Tobin needs to feel useful. Christen slides to the floor and in between Tobin’s legs, humming when she feels her hands gently massaging her shoulders. Christen uses her phone to play some music, choosing some quiet light jazz that her and Tobin enjoy. The calming beat soon fills the room.

She closes her eyes as Tobin’s fingers slowly leave her shoulders and make their way to her neck, then the base of her skull, then her temples. It’s soothing and the tension dissipates and she does feel better. Usually by the time Tobin’s fingers are working her temples, Christen is wet and wanting her, Tobin’s touch typically turning her on so much. This time, she’s bobbing her head nearly asleep and there’s no sexual energy between them with the two being so tired and not feeling well. They haven’t had sex since they both began feeling sick weeks ago. 

After thirty minutes, Christen places her hand on top of Tobin’s, “Thanks, babe,” turning her head to smile at her, “that felt wonderful,” she puckers her lips and Tobin leans down and kisses her softly. 

“You’re welcome,” Tobin smiles, “I hope you weren’t thinking about getting lucky,” 

Christen chuckles as she rises from the floor and sits down next to her, laying a hand on Tobin’s thigh. “Am I not attractive to you right now?” she asks coyly as she bats her eyelashes at her. Neither one of them is looking at their best right now. Both have their hair up in messy buns, glasses on their faces and unshaven legs. 

Tobin laughs, “You’re always attractive to me,” she shakes her head, “but you were falling asleep during foreplay,” she informs her. 

Christen slides back into the cushions of the couch, “What can I say?” she shrugs, “Your hands were mesmerizing,” 

Tobin falls back into the cushions as well with a sigh, “This sucks,” she declares. 

“What can we do to make it better?” Christen questions, considering ideas in her mind. 

Tobin yawns, “I don’t know right now,” she confesses, “but let’s think about it later.” 

“Okay,” Christen agrees, yawning as well, “if you feel like your fever is coming back,” she cautions. 

“I’ll jump in the shower,” Tobin finishes, “I promise,” she gives her a tired smile, “it seems to help,” 

“Oh,” Tobin says after a moment, “I know one thing we can do to limit our misery,” she states.

“What’s that babe?” Christen asks with curiosity. 

“Stop watching the news,” Tobin declares, “I swear, the newscasters seem like they just live to instill fear,” 

“And our government is so behind in handling this properly,” Christen adds, “I swear, it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” 

“I wonder if we’ll even have a season,” Tobin muses, “this could go on for a long time,” 

“I think it might get pushed back a month or two but we’ll play,” 

“Maybe,” Tobin considers, “good nap, sweetheart,” 

“Good nap babe,” 

XXXX

The two days later when Christen exits the bedroom after showering she stands in the living room and the thought crosses her mind that Tobin truly may have lost her mind. Quarantine and being sick has put her over the edge. 

“What is…this?” Christen questions, her hands raised with confusion. The couch has been pushed back, the cushions are off it and on the floor in front of it along with possibly every pillow they own. The door to the balcony is open, a chair from the kitchen holding it open. There is actually a nice spring breeze coming through the room, Christen thinks. 

“What babe?” Tobin questions from behind her, holding a couple of blankets and what looks to Christen as photo albums. 

“I was wondering what this all is,” Christen repeats, arching an eyebrow at her, her curiosity peaked. 

Tobin smiles, “Come on and I’ll explain,” she invites, spreading a blanket over the pile of pillows and sitting down, getting comfortable. Christen joins her and shoves a pillow behind her back and waits. Tobin hands her one of the photo albums and nods at her to open it. 

She does and smiles instantly. It’s Tobin as a baby. Cindy had put together an album of Tobin’s childhood and so did her own Mom and Tobin is currently holding that one in her hands. Tobin flips open the book she’s holding and looks at her expectantly. 

“What are we doing?” Christen questions, glancing down at a Halloween photo of Tobin dressed as Batman. The cute little mustache kills her every time she sees it. 

“I thought we’d talk about our childhoods,” Tobin suggests excitedly, “like, what is something that was awesome back then and it would be awesome if you could still do it now?” 

She pushes her glasses up on her nose, then flips a couple of pages and pushes the book at her. “Like, this one,” she points, “what was happening her?” 

Christen leans over and smiles when she recognizes the photo. It’s of her and her sisters, she must be around eight and the three of them are dressed in matching Minnie Mouse dresses complete with the ears. “We were going to Disney,” she explains, “we did every year,” she smiles at the memory, “Mom and Dad would surprise us with new outfits and we’d leave the next day.”

“That’s so cool,” Tobin grins and Christen almost tears up at her, seeing Tobin genuinely happy right now. This past ten days have been horrible and she’s so grateful to see Tobin smile like that. “You told me you guys went to Disney a lot,” Tobin is still talking, “but I didn’t know they surprised you like that,”

Christen hums and nods and then points to a photo of Tobin on a boat, “Where was this?” 

Tobin leans closer to look and smiles, “My grandparents in Rhode Island,” she says fondly, “we’d go there for a couple of weeks in the summer,” she explains, “it was like,” her shoulders raise as she inhales, dropping them as she speaks, “like, magical.” 

Christen tilts her head, “What made it so magical?” 

Tobin considers for a moment, “I think it was just so different there than at our house,” she says thoughtfully, “like, even breakfast was different. We’d eat out on the patio and the ocean was right there. We’d go sailing almost every day,” Tobin sighs at the memory, “it was like every day was an adventure and everyone was relaxed and didn’t have to be anywhere but just there.” 

Christen hums, “Sounds nice,” she comments, “I remember our Disney trips being like that,”

Tobin nods, “Right?” she shakes her head, “When did we lose that feeling?” she asks her, surprisingly serious. 

Christen blinks, “I don’t know,” she answers, “I haven’t really thought about it,” 

Tobin quirks her mouth, “Neither have I,” she admits. 

“Here,” Christen says, not liking how Tobin is frowning, “let’s switch books. Then we show each other the coolest ones,” 

They switch books and silently look through the pages. Christen lets her finger run over a photo of her with her Mom. 

“I’m sorry,” Tobin’s tone is apologetic and when Christen looks up at her she sees how Tobin looks stricken. 

“It’s okay, babe,” she reassures her, “I just miss her,” 

“I wasn’t thinking,” Tobin chastises herself, “I’m so sorry,” 

“It’s alright, honey,” Christen gives her a gentle smile, “I know she’s here with us, I just wish I could talk to her again,” 

Tobin reaches out to hold her hand and gives it squeeze, “I know,” 

Christen nods, “She’d be even more of a clean freak than I am right now,” she chuckles. 

“She’d probably be making us cool masks,” Tobin adds with a fond smile. 

“Yes,” Christen laughs, “she’d bling them out too,” her laughter dies and smiles at Tobin, “Show me a good picture,” she suggests. 

“This one,” Tobin grins, showing the photo to Christen, “I was around five,” she explains, showing her a photo of a blanket fort with a very young Tobin and her sisters peeking out from the opening, “and I had chicken pox and couldn’t have a birthday party.” 

“Aw,” Christen melts a little seeing young Tobin with spots on her face and arms, “that’s so sad,” 

Tobin puts a finger on her temple, “This is one of the scars,” she says. 

Christen pulls back the hair near her right ear, “I’ve got one too,” 

Tobin smiles at her, “My sisters had it too,” she explains, “and they made this cool fort and my Mom let us have pizza and watch movies all night long.” 

“I loved when we got to stay up late,” Christen smiles at her, “it was like, so against the rules, you know?” 

Tobin nods, then points to another photo. She’s sitting on her Mom’s lap holding a melting ice cream cone and smiling widely at the camera, missing teeth on full display. “Fourth of July,” she states. 

Christen shows her a similar one of herself, dressed in red, white and blue and holding a half-eaten chicken leg in her chubby hand. She’s probably around three or four years old. “I know I was super little in this one,” she says, “but there is something about the Fourth,” she shakes her head, “like anything can happen,” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah,” she sighs, then she gives her a sly grin, “I had my first kiss on the Fourth,” she shares. 

Christen arches an eyebrow at her, “I thought your first kiss was that Bobby boy,” 

Tobin nods, “It was,” she confirms, “but it was on the Fourth, we hid behind some bushes.” 

“Ah,” Christen nods, “didn’t the day seem endless?” 

“It so did,” Tobin agrees, looking back down at the photo, her fingers tracing over it, “where did we lose that feeling?” 

Christen looks at her closely, seeing how serious she is. “I think we get a taste of it,” she offers, “playing soccer,” she explains, “at least, for me.” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah, but I’m talking about that feeling of being little, maybe…” she trails off, frowning, “maybe it’s innocence.” 

Christen nods, now understanding what she’s getting at. 

“Maybe it’s being so busy and not taking the time to revel in doing nothing or being in the moment,” Christen suggests. 

“Well,” Tobin arranges herself on the cushions and lies down, “there’s that,” she admits, “but I think it happens younger,” 

Christen lies down as well, pulling the blanket over herself and offering it to Tobin. She shakes her head and Christen snuggles into the surprisingly comfortable area. “Younger, huh,” she considers, “like when we start caring about what other people think of us?” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Tobin considers, her hands moving to her temples as she winces, “maybe this was too much thinking,” she says defeatedly, moving the photo album she’s holding to the couch. 

“Headache again?” Christen inquires with concern, setting her album aside as well and scooting closer to Tobin. 

“Yeah,” Tobin confirms, “it’s been gnawing at me for a while,” she says and looks at her, “I took some medicine when you were in the shower,” 

Christen nods, knowing Tobin wants her to know she is taking this seriously and responsibly. Tobin has been taking cool showers when she feels her fever growing high instead of just letting it run its course. If she wakes from a nap with a fever, she draws a tepid bath and soaks for a while and that helps as well. She has been actively journaling how she feels, what her symptoms are, when they occur and what she was doing when they started. 

“Why don’t we just relax here,” Christen offers, “this breeze is nice and it almost feels like we’re outside,” 

Tobin smiles, “That’s what I was going for,” she says, “just missing the sun,” she hums tiredly as she lies down. 

“This is wonderful, babe,” Christen says as she nestles in next to her, “just perfect.” 

“This reminds me of being a kid again,” Tobin sighs as she shifts to get comfortable.

Christen hums in agreement and is curious about what is going through Tobin’s head. First the fort, then the photos, then talking about childhood. She wonders what is troubling her and shifts on her side to look at her. Maybe it’s the comfort of being a child, having no responsibilities. Maybe this is all tied into her being sick. She smiles when she sees Tobin is already sleeping, slightly jealous that she can just conk out so quickly. Christen knows Tobin well enough to know they’ll circle back to this, the meaning of whatever it is Tobin is searching for. 

XXXX

Christen scans Tobin’s sweat beaded forehead again, biting her lower lip nervously as the thermometer calculates her temperature. When it beeps, Tobin frowns just seeing her expression. 

“What’s the damage?” she asks with frustration.

“It’s a hundred and two point two,” Christen informs with a sigh. 

Tobin lets out a deep sigh from her spot in the bathtub, clad in a sports bra and compression shorts. “Fuck,” she mutters through clenched teeth, her hands balled into fists, the muscles on her forearms and biceps flexing. 

“I know you’re scared,” Christen says quietly, “I am too,” she kneels next to the tub and lightly runs her fingers along Tobin’s upper arm, “but I’m reassured that we’re only having these headaches and fevers. I know it sucks for you but we’re lucky, even if you feel terrible right now. If we were going to have other symptoms, worse ones, we would have by now. It’s been just over two weeks since we’ve been diagnosed. Dr. Brown said we’re past that point. So, now we have to tough it out.” 

“You’re right,” Tobin agrees, sighing deeply and leaning back against the towel on the edge of the tub, “I would have ankle surgery again instead of this,” she says, “this just really sucks.” 

“I know you feel awful,” Christen continues, “I wish there was something I could do to take this from you, babe,” 

Tobin gives her a sickly smile, “I know you do,” she says, joining their hands, “the baths seem to help a little,” she says, swishing the water around a little with her hand, “I’m struggling to find the positive in this,” she states with a frown. 

“Me too,” Christen admits with a nod, “I think a lot of people are right now,” 

“I,” Tobin starts and then bites her lip, quirking her mouth, “I think we need the July drop to be something super positive,” she says, looking up at Christen. That line from Julie Foudy from her first fever dream has been weighing heavily in her mind lately. To be sure of the message you want the world to see. 

Christen nods, “I was thinking that as well,” she agrees, “do you have any ideas on it?”

“I feel like I’m close, but I just can’t put my finger on it yet,” Tobin replies, then she winces slightly and rubs at her temple with one hand. 

“Does your head hurt?” Christen asks her tenderly, her fingers cupping Tobin’s jaw.

Tobin leans in to her touch, “Just kind of a dull ache, like pressure,” She yawns, “I think I could sleep,”

“Well, not here you aren’t,” Christen snorts, “come on, I’ll help you up,” Christen stands up and offers her hand. Tobin takes it and rises from the water. She towels off her hair and upper body and then lifts a leg up to dry it before stepping out. She dries her other leg and then strips off her clothes. 

“Why didn’t you just…” Christen starts and then shakes her head, bending to pick up the clothes, she will never understand Tobin and her methods, “there’s a shirt and shorts on the bed,” she says as she walks out of the bathroom, “I left a Pedialyte on your nightstand.” 

“Thanks, babe,” Tobin calls out from the bathroom where she is preparing her toothbrush. 

Tobin dreams that night. 

They come in flashes, like turning the pages of her photo album, her as a little girl out at her grandparent’s house, on their boat in the sun and on the water. Hot summer days, fishing with her brother, playing soccer, playing tennis with her siblings. Running around all day with her friends and scrounging for change around the house to get a popsicle from the ice cream truck after dinner. Lying on her back in the grass, eyes closed and feeling the sun. Hot summer nights getting ice cream with her Mom and Dad after a game, feeling happy and surrounded with love. 

Then there’s the ones when she’s a little older. Hanging out with her teammates from her high school team. Sleepovers, bon fires, sitting out under the stars. Skateboarding, youth group at church, learning to drive. Traveling for soccer all over the world. Wanting to learn about different cultures and being amazed how soccer is the universal so often. The pure joy of playing the game that speaks to everyone. 

When she wakes the next morning thinking about happiness and carefree joy and how wondering when was the last time she’s felt it so purely. 

XXXX


	3. Chapter 3

The two are on the couch, their official lounging spot, Christen on her laptop and Tobin staring at her sketchbook, contemplating putting her pencil to paper. It’s been nearly three weeks since being diagnosed with the virus and, thankfully, not too much has changed. Tobin’s temperature still spikes almost every night and she’s been suffering with headaches and lower fevers daily, usually with her temperature shooting up and hovering around a hundred and two during the evenings or over night. Christen is still running low grade fevers and Tylenol seems to keep them at bay. Both are fatigued, not having energy to much of resume any semblance of their normal off season activities. 

Christen has been reading a little , looking over some Re-Inc. business and keeping in touch with Kling about the new drop. She reaches out to Mal, wanting to know how she’s feeling, what’s she’s been doing with her time and how she’s adjusting to living with her boyfriend. She feels this compulsion to check on the young girl, sensing how upset Mal has been with her career with playing time and injuries. It’s natural for her to mother the girl and Mal welcomes it fully. Mal trusts Tobin and Christen and the three have grown very close. 

Tobin is still listless, unable to concentrate enough to read for very long, a headache quickly flaring up when she tries. Even watching TV renders her in pain after a couple of hours. She hasn’t worn her contacts in over two weeks now, preferring to wear her glasses. She’s checked in with Mark, her coach from the Thorns and a few of her teammates. Everyone has been very supportive, offering to send food or go shopping for them. They’ve ordered in groceries and Kling and Becky have continued to prepare meals for them.   
Both of them have spoken with the US National Team medical team and reported their symptoms. They’ve been reassured they’ll be fine, although both of them remain cautiously optimistic. There’s so much unknown about the virus and it scares them. 

A week later, after a phone call with Dr. Brown who reassured her that this was expected with the virus and praying no other symptoms would spring up, Tobin tries to be content with herself. Yet she gets fidgety and bored, searching for something to take mind off how awful she feels. Her fever hasn’t spiked in a couple of days, yet she doesn’t want to get too hopeful yet. Her and Christen don’t allow themselves to lay around in bed or on the couch too much no matter how awful they feel. Both are terrified of developing pneumonia from inactivity so they make sure to change their positions and sit up for a few hours. 

This part has to be the worst thing about having COVID-19. The worry of possibly developing more serious symptoms. Tobin tries to keep it from her mind, not allow herself to go to such dark places, thinking of being horribly sick again and possibly dying. She wills herself to stay in a positive mind frame, find something to pass the time and not worry Christen making her think that she’s slowly losing her mind. 

She leaves the couch and shuffles to the freezer, thinking ice cream or something cold would taste good right now. She smiles when she find a box of popsicles. They’re some kind of organic fruit smoothie type thing, not the old pure sugar ones that she had as a kid, but she can’t argue these ones taste even better. 

“Want one, babe?” she asks, holding up a wrapped dessert for Christen to see. 

“Sure,” she replies. 

Tobin unwraps them and brings them back to the couch, handing one over to her. 

“Thanks,” Christen smiles at her, “this is a nice treat,” she says as she takes her first lick, “I forgot we had them,” 

“Yeah, I just saw them,” Tobin nods, licking hers, “I’m kinda hungry,” she states, “and I feel pretty good,”

“Oh, honey,” Christen smiles, “I’m so happy,” she says, running her hand on Tobin’s thigh, “no headache?” 

“Not right now,” Tobin smiles, “and it’s been two days. I almost feel normal, except for being so tired.” 

Christen hums as she works on her popsicle, “Me too,” she nods, “just so blah,” 

“There’s some beef stew that Becky brought over,” Tobin states, “we can have that with the nice bread we got from the store,” Becky and Kling have been angels by bringing over food for them since neither have felt the energy to make an actual meal to eat. 

“That sounds good,” Christen agrees, “I just want to get through these emails and then I’ll start,” 

“I can start after this,” Tobin offers, “I can handle it,” 

Christen eyes her for a moment, “I just don’t want you to overextend yourself,” she cautions. 

“I’ll take it easy,” Tobin acknowledges, “baby steps. If it’s too much of doing anything, I’ll sit down,” 

Christen nods and turns her attention to her laptop. 

Tobin eyes her melting popsicle and the color of the frozen fruit catches her eye. How it is a bold reddish and then fades to a softer color at the end. An idea pops into her mind, imagining how colors blend and fade and what colors represent. “Where’s my phone,” she murmurs, looking around for the device. She reaches for it on the ottoman, licking the juices off her hand and munching on the popsicle. She’s only on her phone for a few minutes, inspired by her quick search and then she’s off the couch, moving to wash her hands with the popsicle stick still in her mouth and grab her sketchbook, the idea taking shape. She lies on the rug in front of the TV, quickly flipping open her book while 

Christen watches silently from her spot on the couch. She’s seen this before, not many times, but enough to recognize Tobin’s behavior for what it is. Slowly she reaches for her phone, silently taking a few photos of her wife on the floor. Even if she never shares these pictures, she’ll cherish them. It stirs something deep within Christen to witness Tobin when she gets inspired with something. Megan has called it going to Tobin’s Mind Palace when Tobin gets hit with inspiration and Christen thinks it’s a pretty accurate description. Tobin lets everything around her disappear while she’s in her zone, her only focus being on the task at hand. 

The first time Christen witnessed it was years ago when they were at some camp, she thinks it was in Colorado somewhere. She and Tobin were with a group of teammates having coffee. In the distance were the mountains and she noticed how Tobin was staring at them through the window of the coffee shop. Tobin had asked her for a pen and began to sketch on a napkin and Christen had thought nothing of it and went back to talking to the others. After ten minutes of silence from Tobin, she looked over to see her with the tip of her tongue peeking out between her lips and her forehead crinkled with concentration as she draws, oblivious to the spirited conversation around her. 

A month later, during a lull in their conversation, Christen had asked Tobin if she had painted anything new. Moments later, a new text appeared and Christen was blown away. It was an impressionist painting, hints of the mountain and forest and sky in bright colors and she instantly recognized it as the mountains from that day at the coffee shop. She was incredibly impressed. 

Now, being so close to Tobin, knowing her so well, it’s been exciting to see over the years how Tobin’s use of color and her techniques have improved and it’s a privilege to witness those moments when inspiration strikes her. Admittedly Christen doesn’t always understand the themes or designs of some of them until Tobin explains it, but now, the last paintings Tobin’s completed in the las eight months, Christen can really see how things are coming together for her. Christen smiles to herself while she watches Tobin move her pencil across the paper, hoping that this is a sign she’s feeling better. 

XXXX

“Volemics is scheduled to go to auction in June, right?” Tobin asks suddenly, the breaking the silence that seems to be the norm lately. 

Christen looks up and blinks at her, “Yeah,” she says, her eyes flicking down at her laptop screen, “we were thinking June 23,” she pushes her glasses up on the bridge of her nose.   
“I just had an idea for the next line,” Tobin says, a small grin on her face. “If we act fast, we could get it out in July,” 

Christen sets her laptop on the coffee table and sits up, “I’m all ears,” she states, “or should we unveil this on a call with Pinoe and Kling?” 

“Let me give you the basics first,” Tobin nods, “it’s still kind of rough, but I think you’ll get the gist of it.” Tobin turns to face her on the couch, balancing the unopened notebook on her lap. “So, you remember when we were looking at the photo albums and talking about stuff we did as kids?” She questions Christen. 

Christen nods, unable to help the smile that spreads across her face. She’s happy that Tobin seems to be feeling better and she’s thrilled to hear the excitement in her voice right now. 

“So, I’ve been thinking after we talked,” Tobin continues, “and I wanted to capture like, that feeling like, I used to have as a kid, about how the summer days would like, go on forever,” she looking at her closely as she speaks and Christen nods for her to continue. 

“Right, so I wanted to capture that feeling,” she says, “like we talked about. But there’s so much else going on to consider, too,” 

“Like what?” Christen inquires.

“Well, we agreed the drop would t-shirts and crop tops, then a second wave of it of a similar type t-shirt and then a muscle tee. Plus, we’re going to add a beach towel and a skateboard. So, whatever the theme is, it’s going to have to carry over to all platforms and make some kind of sense.” She raises a finger, “also, it needs to tie in with Volemics, so the color thing is there.” 

“And we agreed it wouldn’t be like a Pride thing,” Christen interjects. 

“Exactly,” Tobin nods, “so it left me really struggling for a while,” 

“Well, honey,” Christen rubs Tobin’s knee with her sock covered foot, “you’ve been pretty sick,” 

“Well, yeah,” Tobin gives her a one shoulder shrug, “but still, like,” she shakes her head, “anyway,” she says, “here’s what I’m thinking.” She says as she opens her notebook. 

XXXX

Christen wasn’t prepared for how well thought out Tobin’s ideas. She had thought for certain Tobin’s ideas would be scattered since she’s been so sick and they would have to work on developing the theme as a team. But she had it all, from a simplistic idea that stretched out to bring strength and power and could represent everyone. How she had woven something so simple as to be being happy and finding childlike joy into using it as a strength to stand on. 

Tobin had a list of re-words, refresh, reformed, renewed, rejoice, responsibility. Then she had a list of other words: societal norms, wellness, self care, thrive, joy, bliss, empower, freedom and spoke about how when people are refreshed and rested they can thrive, feel reformed or renewed, they can rejoice and accept responsibilities. Tobin related how the other words to created this theme of how important personal joy is for people and how it can empower anyone to tackle the world. 

Christen felt this may be one of Tobin’s most detailed presentations and here they are just sitting on the couch. 

“Babe,” she interrupts, placing a hand on Tobin’s forearm that is holding her notebook, “I don’t mean to stop you,” she says, “but this is just blowing me away,” she shakes her head. “How did you come up with all of this? And when? You’ve been so sick,” 

Tobin gives her a tired smile, “You know I was working on it during the tournament,” she deflects, “and things were coming together and then,” she shrugs and downplays her work, “it all just fell into place.” 

Christen smiles, “I’m so proud of you,” she inhales deeply, letting the air out with a huge smile on her face, “how are you integrating the colors?” 

Tobin’s eyes widen with excitement and she sticks her tongue out and wiggles her head as she flips the next page of her notebook. She shares with her the three shirts with the color designs, then the second drop, the skateboard and the beach towel. 

Christen knits her brow as she looks at the back of the first drop shirt, trying to decipher the design. Tobin hands her the notebook and leaves the couch. She returns and hands Christen a popsicle and sits back down. 

“What’s this?” Christen questions as she accepts the frozen treat. 

Tobin gives her a dazzling smile, “This is it,” she says and takes a lick, “this is everything.” 

Christen licks her dessert as she considers what Tobin’s just said. It still doesn’t make sense. “Care to expand on that, hun?” 

“Popsicle,” Tobin gives her an amused look, “this is it, right? That simple moment of happiness while you’re sitting in the sun eating a popsicle.” She looks at her carefully, gauging her reaction. 

Christen considers it as she works on her popsicle. “Just me and you,” she says slowly as Tobin’s theme begins to click with her.” 

“The colors will be the light shades from Proxemics,” Tobin explains, “nothing bright, but like the faded color,” she holds up a finger and sucks on her popsicle, “like this,” she wiggles her eyebrows. 

“Ah,” Christen nods and smiles as it all comes together for her, “yeah,” she grins at her, chomping down on the frozen fruit mix. 

“And the design is inspired by the different shapes of popsicles, like this,” she shows her some sketches of the beach towel and t-shirt. “Yeah, so people can take it for whatever it means to them,” Tobin picks up again, “like Pinoe said, it won’t specifically be like a pride flag or pride colors, it won’t be rainbow in any way,” she finishes her snack and licks the wooden stick, “but if they interpret it as that, well, that’s cool.” 

Christen leans over to look at Tobin’s sketches of the shirts as she finishes her popsicle, “Maybe name the color smears in the box logo flavors,” she murmurs as she looks. 

“That’s fantastic!” Tobin bursts, “Babe, that’s perfect!” she leans in and kisses her cheek, “I love it, I think it adds to the whimsy, don’t you?” 

Christen smiles, “You said whimsy,” she chuckles, “that’s so cute.” 

Tobin beams at her, “Well, you’re so cute,” she chuckles back at her and uses a finger to boop her nose, “just so cute.” 

“You know,” Christen says quietly, “I’ve felt like when I put on a Re shirt, it’s like a uniform,” she states, “and I feel empowered wearing it. Like I can face whatever is being throw at me.” 

Tobin nods thoughtfully, “Babe, that’s pretty amazing,” she says, looking at her with such love, “you should share that with everyone.” 

Christen nods, “I’m waiting for the right time,” she states, “I feel like I’ll know when it’s time.” 

Tobin nods, “It kinda ties in with this,” she says, “like, I want people to feel good about themselves and be joyful when they wear this drop,” she thinks for a moment. “Kinda like wearing a suit of armor.” 

The two are quiet for a few minutes, both deep in thought. 

“Do you think it’s serious enough?” Tobin asks quietly, feeling vulnerable suddenly, “Like, it’s not stupid, is it?” 

Christen’s eyes widen hearing that, “Not at all!” she exclaims, “Honey, this is pretty amazing,” she says, shifting even more on the couch, “think of all of the people who are going through major issues, think of kids and adults who are struggling with their identity. A shirt like this, it’s the meaning behind it. That’s what we have to market to them. The message. How wearing this should connect them to when they felt safe and happy, she says passionately, her hands moving wildly as she gesticulates, “how that would allow them to thrive now with whatever it is their facing.” 

Tobin looks unconvinced, but she nods slowly. 

“Tobin,” Christen says, reaching to take one of her hands with both of hers, “when we brainstorm this, we’re going to come up with such an amazing theme. One that has the potential to seriously make a difference for people. It’s the beginning of April,” she says as she nods, “I really do think this pandemic isn’t going away any time soon. Just reading what’s happening overseas and knowing how our government is going to screwup how to handle this. People will need to feel safe and this message of being joyful and safe and going back to having that sheer happiness, it will be pretty amazing. I can feel it, babe.” 

“You know,” Tobin says quietly, so quietly that Christen leans in to hear her, “that first night I had a fever,” she says, her eyes downcast, “I dreamed about playing soccer. It was when Mia retired, along with Julie and Joy.” She looks up at Christen, “In that dream Julie said something,” she quirks her mouth and scratches at her bicep for a moment, "she said to be true to yourself and be certain of the message you want to send out to the world.” 

Christen hums as she listens. 

“That’s been stuck in my head for weeks,” Tobin shakes her head, “trying to navigate what my message should be.” 

“I love that you decided on happiness,” Christen smiles at her, “you’re pretty amazing.” 

“Thanks, babe,” Tobin blushes a little and articulate it better than I do,” she grins, “let me do some better sketches and get the colors down and I’ll send it off to Pinoe and Kling and we’ll meet on it.” 

“I’ll let them know you’re close and set up a date.” Christen squeezes her hand, “I’m so proud of you.” 

“I love you,” Tobin responds, leaning in for a quick kiss. 

“I love you, too,” Christen replies, looking at her fondly, “you like tomorrow to meet?” 

Tobin yawns, “Yeah, maybe in the later afternoon?” she suggests. “I think I need to nap right now, then I’ll get on it later. 

Christen nods, “You should eat something first,” 

“Oh, yeah,” Tobin nods, closing her notebook. 

Christen stands up and takes a step away from the couch, “Oh,” she stops and turns to look at her, “what are you calling it?” 

Tobin smiles widely and holds up the wooden stick, “Popsicle.” 

Fini

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for following along. This was just something that popped into my head. I tried to do it justice while keeping it short. 
> 
> Appreciate the kudos and comments as always. 
> 
> Also, I'm now on Tumblr so you have a place a place to check in and see what I'm working on. Right now it's the second installment of Mind Over Matter. But there are a few other things in the works as well. 
> 
> Anyway- find me as maresthird 
> 
> Take care, stay safe, wear a damn mask and be mindful. 
> 
> Peace-  
> MT

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this happened. Just an idea that popped in my head and i had to write it out. It took way more time that i intended, but here it is. 
> 
> Also, I joined Tumblr- you can find me at: maresthird
> 
> Feel free to ask questions, prod me along on the second half of Mind of Over Matter or any other stories you'd like see continued. Tell me some cool stuff to follow too! 
> 
> Be patient though, I'm not totally sure how to navigate Tumblr a whole lot but I'll do my best. 
> 
> Hope you're all well and still hanging in there. The struggle is real and I'm so thankful for this platform and the many stories from other writers who are so talented and produce such awesome stories. It helps pass the time and escape reality for a bit. I'm very grateful for that right now. 
> 
> Peace y'all


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